


if you need, come build your home in me

by relightthatspark



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Alive Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alive Bobby Wilson too lol, Angst, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Luke Patterson needs a hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, bobby and trevor are not the same person, kind of a coffee shop au, kind of a college au, minor/background Willex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relightthatspark/pseuds/relightthatspark
Summary: "As he furiously pedaled away from his childhood home, he felt the distance between him and everything he knew growing with every turn of the bike’s wheels.He knew nothing anymore.He had lost his family. He had nothing.He was nothing. "After a massive falling out with his parents on the eve of his 18th birthday, Luke Patterson runs away from his small town of Garden Park, California to the city of Los Angeles.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, people! I'm so excited & nervous to finally be posting this. This is my first multi-chapter fanfiction. It's going to be 15 chapters and an epilogue. Writing this has been insane, and I'm really looking forward to hearing what you think of it-- I was inspired to write this mostly because of all the other works on here. You all crank out such amazing stuff on the daily and your creativity is so inspiring. So before you even read this, thank you! I really hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you enjoyed it! Title is from "Small Hands" by Radical Face.

**PROLOGUE**

_Friday, September 25, 2020_

“Sit down, please, Luke. Your father and I need to speak with you.”

Luke Patterson froze in the entryway, one hand still on the doorknob. There were a number of reasons why his mother would be saying that to him upon his arrival, and none of them were good. 

Had his mom finally noticed that he hadn’t been home at all the past few nights, avoiding the house in an attempt to escape more arguments about his future that he knew would be coming? 

Maybe she had found the notebooks he’d stashed under his bed, filled to the brim with the lyrics she had been trying to discourage him from writing for years. _It’s not realistic,_ she kept telling him. _You need to be focusing on things that will actually_ _get you somewhere in life._

Maybe she’d found the incomplete college applications, shoved into the bottom of the garbage pail in his bedroom.

Or maybe she’d found the guitar hidden deep in the back of his closet. It had been the replacement for another guitar, smaller and older and worn down after years of use. His first guitar. Ironically enough, it had been a gift from his parents; they’d given it to him for his thirteenth birthday. He had no idea where it was now. His mom had sold it online after one of their fights a couple of months ago, and Luke had bought the new one in secret. If she had found it, that would be the definite starting point for another round of vocal warfare. 

Luke took a deep breath and sat down at the mahogany table, as far away from his parents as possible. There was silence as he waited for one of them to speak.

“Luke,” his mother began. She fixed her eyes on him with an expression that Luke immediately distrusted. Trouble was coming. “Your father and I have been very lenient with you these past few months. We agreed to let you sit out the first semester of college because you said you needed more time. We’ve let you stay in this house, provided for you, and all we’ve asked in return is that you come up with a plan. 

“You’re going to be eighteen tomorrow. All your friends from high school have gone off to college. And you’re still here, trying to make us think you’re getting your act together, when today in your room I found this.” She slapped something onto the table. 

Luke’s heart dropped. His fears had been proven true, it turned out. The item now on the table was an application for The University of California, Los Angeles. It was incomplete, not in an envelope, and definitely not on its way there via mail to be considered for admission. In fact, it was crumpled, and the only information on it was his name, address, and potential course of study: music. 

“You told me you would send this in weeks ago, Luke. Weeks! And why on Earth would you select _music_ as your course of study? You aren’t taking this seriously at all! I’ve told you so many times, now…”

Luke checked out of the conversation at that point. Why had he selected music as his course of study? Maybe because it was one of the only things that made him feel alive. One of the only things that gave him hope for the future. If his mother was forcing him to go to college, shouldn’t he at least be allowed to study something he actually cared about?

“… Luke? Are you even listening to me?” He looked up to meet his mother’s glare, feeling the anger build up inside of him, spiteful and ugly. He met her stare with a defiant one of his own.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed fighting with his mother. Quite the opposite, actually. He hated with everything in him that his parents would never truly understand him. Most of the time, he actively tried to avoid arguments like this, because they always left him feeling drained, empty, and guilty.

Why was it so hard for his parents to just accept who he was? He was a kid, young and unsure of the future. He hadn’t even known that he’d _wanted_ a future, until one day he picked up a guitar and a fire started in his heart. He felt alive. He cared about something, for once. Luke had the talent, and the passion soon followed. At thirteen years old, he had found what he believed was his purpose. And at the very beginning, his parents had actually encouraged it.

Luke didn’t understand how it had all changed. 

His mother and father had been so happy when he’d found something he loved so much at such a young age. But as time went on, the excitement they’d once shared with him dwindled. As Luke became more invested in playing guitar, his parents became more apprehensive. His mother started asking him about school more often, expressing extreme interest in what he was learning in his math and science classes. Never music. If she even heard the sound of his guitar before dinner, she’d knock on his bedroom door and ask if his homework was done. And at the dinner table, she would go on and on about other possible career paths. 

Luke wasn’t stupid. He knew that his parents had never been in love with the idea of him becoming a professional musician. Eventually, though, it had gotten to the point where Luke felt like he couldn’t even tell them if he was leaving the house for something music related. He’d spent countless nights sneaking out, his guitar case on his back. He played gigs. He gave lessons. He played in front of stores for tips. And he did all of it with his parents thinking he was in his bedroom, asleep, or at the library studying. 

Despite his parents’ disapproval, Luke had always thought that what they’d wanted the most for him was happiness. He assumed they’d come around eventually. 

In the meantime, Luke had thought that if he’d focused enough on school, his parents would be placated and not bother him so much about how seriously he took music.

Throughout high school, he’d kept his grades at a medium average. He had gotten by well enough, but his music classes were always his best. He’d put the most effort into them and his teachers had loved him; they’d sung his praises to his parents on every report card. 

Ever since Luke was thirteen, music had been it for him. So why was his mother so shocked and appalled that music was what he'd want to study in college? Of course it would be. The fact that she had ever thought anything else stung. 

Luke’s parents had always considered music “a hobby”. They had never realized how serious he was about it. In fact, as time went on, Luke guessed they regretted ever buying him that guitar. How had they not seen that he might want to pursue music long-term? Did they even know him at all? Did they care to?

The dread of this epiphany he was having crawled slowly up his spine. His parents didn’t care about him. They only cared about who they wanted him to become. How had he not seen it? 

Right on the heels of the dread was fear. He was scared of what this new realization meant for their family. He was also confused, because he had always thought that no matter what he wanted to do in life, his parents would be behind him. They’d applauded him after every mediocre guitar performance he’d forced them to listen to. They had been front row at his middle school talent competition, even though he’d lost to the new kid who could juggle. When he’d wanted to try playing basketball, they came to every game. When he’d cried because his team made fun of him for being too short to play defense, they had been there to hug him. 

Mitch and Emily Patterson had always been there for their son. And now, just when he needed their support most, they weren’t going to give it to him? It made no sense. He was confused.

And, the confusion gave way to anger. Luke was impatient, impulsive. When he didn’t understand something, it bothered him. He had to understand, because he was Luke and Luke always came up with an answer. He barreled through life with the comfort of always being able to make a path for what he wanted. He got things done. He didn’t understand why there was finally an obstacle in his way that he couldn’t get past. He didn’t understand why that obstacle had to be his own parents. The ones who had always been helping him, actively holding him back. It made him see red.

This miserable cocktail of emotions kept swirling around in his head until finally, Luke couldn’t hold it in anymore. He opened his mouth.

“I’m not taking this seriously?” he spat. “You told me to fill out those applications. I tried to. But while I was doing it, it didn’t feel like I was ‘getting my act together.’ You know what it felt like?” The volume in his voice grew and before he realized, he was shouting. “It felt like no matter what I put on those stupid applications, you wouldn’t care. I’d be a disappointment regardless. Because the one thing that I actually care about in this world isn’t good enough for you! _I’m_ not good enough for you. And no matter what I do, I never will be!”

“Luke—” He didn’t even let his father speak, too furious and determined to get his point across.

“I’m not the son you want. And, you know what? I’m tired of it! I’m tired of not being good enough! All you do is tear me down and try to turn me into something I’m not.” He was on his feet now, the chair he’d been sitting in tipped over on the floor behind him. 

“Luke. You’re upsetting your mother. We didn’t want to have a screaming match with you over this. We just want you to hear us—”

“Well, I want _you_ to hear _me!_ ” Luke interjected. He turned his furious gaze onto his father. “I want you to _know_ me. Is it too much to ask to have parents who actually give a damn about who their kid is?

“We’re always going to be having the same fight.” He stopped. The truth of that statement was hitting him, finally. Mitch and Emily Patterson did not know their son, they did not care to, and the three of them would always be arguing about it.

Luke felt very small all of a sudden. He looked at his parents, desperate. “I’m going to leave,” he spat out. “If you don’t want me here—the real, unsure, music-loving, eighteen-year-old me—then… then I’m not staying!”

The disconnect he felt between him and his parents was destroying him on the inside. All Luke had ever wanted was to feel like he belonged. Like he connected with people. How could he stay here, if he couldn’t even connect with his own parents? Leaving had to be better than being somewhere where he felt so unknown.

But even as the threat left his mouth, Luke wished he could take it back. Leaving wasn’t the answer; there had to be another way. They were a _family._ They’d had differences of opinion before, but they’d always gotten through it. Luke had always been the most important thing to Mitch and Emily. Panic flared in his chest at his impulsive declaration, but he tried not to show it on his face. He had to stand his ground. It wouldn’t come to that, he was sure. His parents would realize that he was just saying that to get under their skin, and the argument would take on a new course. He waited.

He expected both of his parents to erupt at his statement, to yell even more and to demand that he stay right where he is. After all, if they were so sure that they could control him and mold him into something he wasn’t, they’d fight for that, right? Surely they’d fight for the relationship they had with their only son. Yes, it was currently broken, but it was all they had. Luke’s threat of leaving home would be taken as it was, a bluff to show his parents that he was serious about being in control of his future. They would see that, and tell him to stay. Right?

Wrong.

In the place of more angry words, there was silence. Luke waited for the arguments and demands that didn’t come. He stood there, staring at his parents, and they stood and stared back. After what felt like hours, his father spoke.

“If you aren’t going to go to college and make something of yourself, then go. We’ve tried to guide you, Luke. You haven’t listened.

“Fighting like this is upsetting your mother, and you don’t seem to understand what we’re saying to you anyway. So, if you think you can make it on your own, there’s the door. We won’t stop you.”

Luke froze. Now was the time to take back what he’d said; to tell them he hadn’t meant it, that they’d figure everything out. This was a temporary fight. He would prove them wrong, and they would see that he was right about pursuing music. They wouldn’t lose their family over a disagreement. 

Instead of giving him this speech he was preparing in his mind, though, Luke found himself running. His body was on autopilot as he went into his bedroom, haphazardly threw his belongings into a duffel bag, grabbed his guitar case out of his closet, ran down the stairs, and out the front door. He didn’t stop running until he was in his parents’ garage, standing in front of his bicycle.

He stood there for a moment, waiting for his parents to come call him back inside. His heart sank further every second they didn’t. Eventually he left the garage and went back to the front of the house, crouching behind the bushes outside. The door had been shut behind him. The lights in the kitchen were now off.

All of the anger from the fight had evaporated, and Luke felt numb. He walked back to the garage where his bicycle was, parked between his dad’s lawnmower and the shelving unit that housed his mom’s gardening supplies. He tied his duffel bag to the strap of his guitar case and slung the case onto his back. Then he took one last look around the garage.

When he was a kid, before the guitar, he used to be in here with his parents a lot. He remembered building toy cars with his dad’s tools at the workbench, helping his mom gather tools to plant vegetables in the garden, and learning to drive at sixteen, when he’d backed his dad’s Volkswagen into the white metal doors. He could still make out the dent that had been left behind.

He thought about all the memories he’d had in this house and ached for all the memories that he no longer would. He could never come back here again. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he finally mounted his bicycle. He opened the garage door and walked the bike out, reaching back to slam the door closed.

Then he rode down the street, all the things he would never get to say to his parents screaming in his head. As he furiously pedaled away from his childhood home, he felt the distance between him and everything he knew growing with every turn of the bike’s wheels.

He knew nothing anymore.

He had lost his family. He had nothing.

He _was_ nothing. 


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Monday, September 28, 2020_

_If you could only know_

_I’d never let you go_

Luke threw the pen back onto the desk and slammed his notebook shut. It had been almost three days since he had gotten off the train in Los Angeles and checked himself into the first motel he could find. He had slept barely an hour the night before, his mind too full of memories and words and feelings that were coming too quickly to process. He was currently hunched over the desk of the motel room he’d rented, trying to process those feelings by writing a song.

The problem was, he was completely blocked. He’d written two lines, twenty minutes ago, and could not for the life of him figure out what he was actually trying to say.

What was his problem? Usually when his mind was so full, it was easy to put those feelings to music. When he had something to write about, it was simple. It’s what he’d grown up learning, in all his music and English classes that he’d paid attention in. _Write what you know._ That was great. He knew what he was feeling, the pain and regret that had gripped his heart on Friday night and hadn’t let go. So why couldn’t he write about it?

Maybe it was because the song he was currently writing was about his mother. It was about-- or it _would_ be, once he could just write it-- all the things that he’d wanted to say to her, from the moment he’d hopped onto his bike and rode away from his childhood home. But, what did he want to say? What could he possibly say to make himself feel better about the way things had ended between them? 

Maybe it was the _finality_ of it. Once he wrote the song, that was it. He would have nothing left of his parents in his heart. It would be all spent onto the pages of his notebook, and he would never make any new memories with them to write about ever again.

Or maybe it was the fact that Luke felt like it would be a huge slap in the face to them. He had left his parents because of an argument over music. How could he dare say that he had never let them go, when he was the one who had run out the door? What kind of son would he be if he wrote a song about something so personal to them? What would they think?

They wouldn’t think anything at all, he realized. They would never hear it. They would never speak to him again. 

The tears that he’d been holding back since Friday night pooled in his eyes once again. He blinked them away, refusing to let himself cry about a decision that he had made, a problem that he had started in the first place. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and grabbed his room key, throwing it into his pocket along with his wallet and phone.

He needed a distraction. The girl at the check-in desk had mentioned a coffee shop one block over. The exhaustion he felt after getting so little sleep, and the urgency he felt to stay awake, to finish the song, to finally prove himself to his parents, had him jogging out the main hotel door and down the street. Maybe a cup of coffee would help him feel alive again after the whirlwind that past weekend had been.

It was easy to find the shop. It was on the corner and had two little metal tables with two chairs each on either side of the door. In cursive writing in the window, it said the name, “Delilah’s Cafe.”

Luke walked through the door, bell jingling as he swung it open. The girl behind the counter looked up at his entry. She was about his age, with dark skin and braids cascading down her shoulders. “Welcome to Delilah’s!” 

Luke looked around. It was mid-morning on a Monday, so he didn’t expect the place to be as crowded as it was. There were two tables pushed together in the back corner, filled with kids that also looked his age. There was a blond man wearing a pink hoodie, sitting next to another man with long dark hair that fell past his shoulders. The second man pulled a helmet off his head and tossed it onto the bench beside him. On the other side of the table sat a third man with short dark hair, wearing a leather jacket. Next to him, a small girl with dark curly hair sat, a book open on the table in front of her. At the head of the table was a Filipino boy, with tan skin and dark hair, who was also engrossed in a book.

Luke stepped up to the counter. The barista, who was wearing a bright red apron and a handwritten name tag that read “Flynn,” gave him another smile. “Hey, haven’t seen you around before. First time at Delilah’s?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “I just moved here this past weekend.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Flynn!”

“I’m Luke,” He introduced himself. “So, is this place like, a local hangout?”

“It’s a college hangout spot, yeah,” Flynn confirmed. “Most of the kids that hang out here go to Covington.” 

“Do you go there, too?”

“Yup,” Flynn said. “I’m a double major-- art and business-- but most of my friends are in the music program. Anyway,” she said, pressing a button on the cash register. “What can I get you this morning?”

A sudden burst of loud laughter erupted from the corner table. Luke looked over and saw the boy with the long hair sling his arm over Pink Hoodie’s shoulders. The boy with the leather jacket interjected, “Aren’t you two adorable!”

“Shut up, Reggie!” Pink Hoodie said. He looked down and Luke noticed a slight blush on his cheeks. After a moment he looked up, sensing Luke’s stare. Their eyes met and Luke looked back at Flynn, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, I’ll just have a coffee, please.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“That would be great.”

Flynn punched his order into the register. “Okay, that’s $3.25.”

Luke had left his house on Friday night with all the money he had. His wallet currently contained enough cash to pay for a couple of nights in a hotel, a credit card he’d been given by his parents “for emergencies only,” and the debit card that accessed the money he had earned from the guitar lessons he’d given in high school. All in all, it was enough for now, but Luke would definitely have to get a job soon. He pulled a $5 bill out and passed it over the counter. “You can keep the change.”

Flynn thanked him, smiling once again as she put the remaining $1.75 in the tip jar next to the register. She turned away to make his coffee and Luke looked around the shop. There were some other patrons sitting at tables, but the teenagers in the corner were what really made the place feel full. The moment Luke’s stare landed on their table, Pink Hoodie looked up again and gave Luke a small smile. 

The boy in the leather jacket, Reggie, turned around to see what his friend was looking at. He met Luke’s gaze and smiled, too. “Hey, dude! Come over here!” He waved his leather-clad arm at Luke, beckoning him over to the table.

Caught off guard, Luke took his coffee from where Flynn had just placed it on the counter and paused, weighing his options. The kids looked nice enough, and he did need to meet some people if Los Angeles was going to be his new home. He walked over to the table and smiled nervously.

Reggie was the first to speak. Luke could tell he had the most energy out of the group at the table. He stood up out of the chair and held out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Reggie! You seem like this is your first time here. Is it your first time here? Do you go to Covington University? Do—”

“Jeez, Reg. Don’t bombard the man with questions!” The boy at the end of the table rolled his eyes. “Sorry about my friend. He’s very excited. Like, all the time.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, it’s okay. Hi. I’m Luke.” He shook Reggie’s hand.

“So, Luke. Was I right? Is this your first time at Delilah’s? You don’t look familiar.”

It was Pink Hoodie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Reggie, we’re in a major city. Nobody ever looks familiar!”

Luke breathed out a laugh. “No, he’s right. Definitely never been here before. Actually, I just moved to L.A. this weekend.”

Reggie slapped Pink Hoodie’s chest, excited about being right. Pink Hoodie grabbed Reggie’s arm and threw it back down to his side affectionately. “Ow, asshole!”

“Anyway,” Reggie said, “I’m Reggie, as you know. This grump—” he gestured to Pink Hoodie, “is Alex. Then over there at the end we have Bobby. The guy with the long luscious flowing hair is Willie, and the girl with all the brain cells is, of course, our very own Julie Molina.”

Luke tried to keep up with all the new names. He nodded at each person as they were introduced, relieved when they all smiled back.

“So, Luke,” Alex inquired, “what brings you to L.A.? You said you just moved here. You here for school?”

Luke sighed. “Nope, not here for school. I…” he paused. The sleep deprivation was taking its toll on him, and that combined with his utter disbelief at the way the past weekend had gone prompted him to admit in a mumble, “I actually don’t know _what_ I’m doing here.” 

The energetic boy in front of him, Reggie, did not seem deterred by his strange response. “What a coincidence!” he laughed. “Neither do any of us, really! Occupational hazard of being eighteen, I guess.”

The boy on the end that Reggie had introduced as Bobby spoke. “Well, you look like you haven’t slept in a good few days, and you look about our age, so you’ll definitely fit in with the college scene!”

Luke didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that he must look exhausted, after getting practically no sleep that weekend, but he didn’t know how he felt about his zombie-like state being confirmed by a literal stranger. He settled for a simple, “Thanks.”

The boy with the long hair, Willie, spoke next. “Since you’re new to the city, why don’t we show you around? Maybe sometime this week?” He pulled out his cell phone and passed it to Luke. “Here, put your number in! We can hang. It’ll be great!”

Luke hesitated. He still had his phone, but he didn’t know for how much longer. His parents had been paying the bill, and if they had kicked him out…

Not wanting to think about his parents, he took the phone from Willie and punched in his name and number. If he had to get a new phone one day, he’d figure something out. But for now, he really just wanted to be able to make some friends, and the group he’d just met seemed very welcoming. This would be a good way to start.

Willie glanced down at the screen. “Luke Patterson. Nice to meetcha!” He grinned. He put his phone back into his pocket and took a sip of the coffee in front of him. “Ah, I think I got yours, Jules,” he complained. “This has cinnamon in it.” He slid the cup across the table. 

The girl with the dark hair, the only one who had yet to speak to Luke, looked up from her book. “It’s okay. I’m done with it anyway.” Looking up at Luke, she continued, “sorry, I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I’m just cramming for this test that I have in, like, an hour.” She paused. “I’m Julie.” 

“Oh, come on, Jules!” Reggie whined. “You’ve been studying for this test for like, a week straight. And, you’re a genius. Of course you’ll get an A!”

“What are you studying?” Luke addressed Julie.

“Economics,” Reggie grimaced, answering for her. “Even though she _should_ be studying music. She—”

“Reggie!” Julie huffed. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

“But it’s true!” he insisted. “We’ve been begging you for _weeks_ to play with us.”

Luke, sensing that Julie was about to argue, decided to intervene. “You guys play music?”

“Yeah, we’re in a band together,” Alex said. “So far it’s just me, Reg, and Bobby, but we wanted a fourth member. Julie here, um…” He looked at Julie nervously, anticipating her to turn her frustration on him instead of Reggie. “Julie’s just… not into the whole ‘performing’ thing.”

“We don’t ‘want’ a fourth member. We _need_ a fourth member,” Reggie insisted. “Otherwise Bobby here will have to keep taking the lead on vocals, and no offense dude, but that’s just—”

Now it was Alex’s turn to whack Reggie. “Dude, shut up. If Julie doesn’t want to do it, then—”

“Well, _you_ can’t be the singer. We need you to play the drums! And we all know what happened last time _I_ tried… wait!” Reggie grabbed Alex’s shoulders like he was having some sort of epiphany. Then, looking at Luke, he said, “I was right about it being your first time here. I’m like, psychic. So now, I’m saying you sing. Do you sing? Am I two for two?”

Alex looked at his friend doubtfully. “Reg, you can’t just try to make someone be a singer with psychic mojo. And, we just met Luke! You’re gonna scare him away!” He scolded. 

He looked to Luke. "Sorry about him. He comes on a little strong. He just _has_ to make a new friend, everywhere he goes." 

Luke wondered how he had ended up here. It seemed like a total joke that such a short time ago, he was leaving a hotel room completely alone in Los Angeles, and now he was standing in front of an overly enthusiastic boy in a leather jacket who was making accurate guesses about his life. He wondered what about his appearance made Reggie think he was musically inclined. Whatever it was, he thought grimly, he wished his parents had seen it, too. 

Maybe this was a sign, Luke thought. He was meant to be a musician, so much so that a stranger could see it. And maybe Los Angeles was the right place for him to be, too; the right place for him to get his music career started. After all, he’d just been invited to join a band, however impulsive the invitation had been.

Luke had never anticipated Friday night to go the way it did. Maybe this was the universe telling him that this was where he was supposed to be. Maybe, it was fate. His life in Garden Park had to fall apart, so that he could find this new one in L.A. 

Maybe he should just go with it, and see if L.A. had any more magic in store for him. 

“I do sing, actually. I play guitar, too. But…” he paused. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal to this apparently psychic boy and his group of friends that he’d just met. “I haven’t been feeling very inspired lately. Don’t know how helpful I’d be in a band.”

He left out the part where he’d been staring at an empty notebook for two days, unable to fill it with the words that were still swimming through his mind. It was true, though. He wouldn’t want to have people relying on him to make music when he was in the middle of a bout of writer’s block, or whatever it was.

“I’m sure you’re great.” Julie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her. “Everyone loses inspiration sometimes. Trust me.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I have to get going, guys. I have class soon.” Before anyone could say anything else, she grabbed her bag and stood, walking out of the cafe.

Luke was confused. Why did talking about music seem to bother Julie so much? Why did she refuse to be a part of the band, when these boys were her friends? If Reggie had really been begging her for weeks to play music with them, she must be good. Why would she be so against helping her friends out, just because music was involved? And, most importantly, why did she seem so familiar with the idea of losing inspiration?

“Is she alright?” he worried. The teens at the table looked at each other. After a moment, Alex replied. “Yeah, she’s okay.” Wanting to change the subject, he went on, “but seriously, if you can, we’d love to try playing together sometime. We really do need a fourth band member.”

“Yeah!” Bobby agreed. “It would be cool to have you. Especially since you’re new in town, you know? It’d give you a chance to get to know L.A. We’d be playing at clubs and stuff all over the place!”

Reggie grinned. “It would be awesome! We could be a big, happy, musical family!”

It would be amazing for Luke to feel like he belonged to something again. But a small part of him hesitated. Last time his mind had created a perception of “family,” he’d been proven wrong, and it had been ripped out from under him. What if he doesn’t truly _belong_ to anything? Is that why he couldn’t make things work with his parents? If they couldn’t find space for him in their lives, who possibly could? What if he wasn’t good enough for these boys, the same way he wasn’t good enough for his parents?

The boys were staring at him expectantly. Trying to push the doubt away and focus only on what he wanted, he said, “Um, yeah, sure. We can give it a try. But… you’ve never even heard me play before. How do you know I don’t suck? Shouldn’t there be, like, an audition process?”

“No need,” Reggie smirked. “I’m psychic. An all-knowing, magical being. Clearly, I have a sixth sense for these things.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “We’ll play a couple of songs together when we get to the house,” he assured Luke. “To make sure we, like, flow and stuff. Sunset Curve is legit. But, we have _Reggie_. I’m sure you’re a thousand times more tolerable than he is!” He jumped out of the way of the swat Reggie was trying to aim at him, and laughed.

“Okay,” Luke agreed. 

Reggie let out a cheer. “ _Yesssss!_ ” He pulled out his phone. “Here, put your number in. Now that we’re bandmates, we gotta be able to get a hold of you!”

As Luke exchanged numbers with Reggie, and then Alex, Bobby stood from the table, gathering empty to-go cups and napkins. “Why don’t we head over to our studio now? We’ll stop home with you to grab your guitar.”

Before Luke could answer, Willie spoke up. “I have class, so I can’t come be your audience today.” He frowned. “Sorry, Alex.” He moved like he was about to kiss Alex on the cheek, but Alex jumped back suddenly.

“It’s okay. We can hang out later tonight.” Alex assured him. Then, he looked up at Luke. Realizing that Luke had been looking at him and Willie, his eyes widened. “Um, Willie and I are, uh…”

“Relax, Alex. This is L.A.” Reggie said. Then he looked up at Luke. “Luke doesn’t have a problem with you and Willie, right?”

Luke blinked. Why would he have a problem with Alex and Willie? And why would Alex even care what Luke thought? He was no one, just some stranger he’d met at a coffee shop. He wondered why Alex would feel like he’d need his approval. Maybe someone else in Alex’s life had not been as accepting. Then he let the thoughts go, embarrassed with himself for speculating about a stranger’s personal business. Luke definitely did not have a problem with Willie, and he made sure Alex knew it. “Of course not. You guys seem good together.” He smiled. 

“Great! Now that that’s settled, let’s go.” Bobby led the group out of the cafe, waving goodbye to Flynn as he left. At the door, Willie gave Alex a peck goodbye and headed the other way down the street, towards the college.

“See you guys later!” Flynn called after them. “I’ll text you about the study group tonight, Bobby!”

Once they were all outside, Luke stopped. He realized that the boys were meaning to go back to his place to pick up his guitar. The problem was, obviously, Luke didn’t have a “place.” Did he want these guys to know that he was essentially homeless, staying in a hotel for now but nowhere permanently?

Alex had realized that Luke was not leading them forward. He looked at Luke, eyebrows furrowing. “You good?”

Luke felt hot all of a sudden. He racked his brain, head spinning, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t involve telling the boys he lived in a hotel. He found nothing. Alex noticed his panic and took a step closer. “Luke?”

He, Bobby, and Reggie waited, looking at Luke with concern.

“Um—I – I just… uh…” Luke stammered. He didn’t know what he was trying to say.

“We don’t have to go home with you,” Alex said, sensing Luke’s discomfort. “We can text you the address and you can meet us at the house later.” 

Luke still struggled to get words out. He wanted to tell the boys something. Maybe he could say that he was staying at a hotel temporarily because his apartment was being renovated, or that he was still in the process of moving altogether. He just needed to come up with any lie that would be convincing enough to keep them from finding out that—

“I don’t have a home.”

Whatever he had expected to come tumbling out of his mouth, it was not that. Why did he _say_ that? He should have just told Alex that he was staying in a hotel for the time being. He hadn’t intended to admit one of his biggest problems in life to this group of strangers almost immediately after meeting them. What had happened to his mental filter? Ever since that last fight with his parents, he seemed to be unable to think anything through before he said it. He closed his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the boys to apologize, to shoot him pitying looks that they’d think he couldn’t see.

Nobody said anything for a minute. Luke opened his eyes slowly, taking in the three boys who were, of course, staring at him in concern. Even Reggie, who had boundless energy and seemed to always have something to say, was speechless.

Alex was the first to speak. “What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I told you that. I mean, you just met me and I’m sure you don’t—”

“Luke!” Bobby cut him off. “It’s okay.” He studied Luke’s expression for another moment. “I get that we just met, but you’re gonna be part of our band now, dude. Of course we want to make sure you’re okay! Do you not have anywhere to go?”

Luke took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm his now racing heart. “I’m staying in a hotel around the corner from here. Just until…” he drifted off. Until what? He had no idea.

“You said you just moved here this weekend?” Reggie asked. Luke nodded. “Well… did you actually move somewhere? How did you wind up at that hotel, anyway?”

Luke bristled at the personal questions. He supposed he couldn’t be angry, seeing as he’d started this whole conversation by admitting he was homeless, but he was still nervous about telling his hardships to these boys he’d just met, who seemed to have it all together.

The boys waited for his response. “I used to live in Garden Park. I… I don’t anymore.”

He was aware of how vague and uninformative this response was. The boys didn’t say anything, waiting for Luke to elaborate. He sighed. “My move was unplanned. I just had to leave and I didn’t get to sort out a new place, or anything. So until I can figure out where to go, I just… wound up there. At that hotel.”

“Are you by yourself?” Alex asked. “What about your family?”

Luke laughed once without humor, his eyes drifting down towards the pavement. “I don’t have a family,” he said heavily. Of this, he was sure. His parents had told him to go and they didn’t care where he was now. He had no one; he was most definitely by himself.

Reggie slung his arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Well, you do now!” He pulled Luke forward. “Lead the way to the hotel. We’ll grab your stuff and you can be our fourth roommate!”

“What?”

“We’ve been looking for a roommate for the house we’re renting,” Bobby explained. “My brother Trevor was living there with us, but he moved out last month to go be with his girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes.

“Boo, Jessica!” Reggie said.

“The four of us were best friends. But, a little over a month ago, Trevor just took his stuff and bailed,” Alex explained. “He’d been wanting to go live with his girlfriend for a while. We didn’t think there were any hard feelings or anything, but…” he paused, glancing at Bobby then back to Luke. “Reg and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I told you guys, he’s just… trying to get settled into his new place,” Bobby said unconvincingly. Luke had a feeling there was more to the story, but before he could ask, Bobby continued. “Anyway, Luke. We do need a roommate, if you’re interested?”

Luke was interested. He’d arrived in Los Angeles with no idea what he was doing with his life and nowhere to go. But now, two days later, he had found potential friends, a band, and a place to live. He would be stupid to turn down Bobby’s offer when he had nothing else, and the boys seemed nice enough. They seemed ready to welcome Luke into whatever crazy friend situation they had going on. And Luke wanted so badly to silence the voice in the back of his head, the one screaming at him that he didn’t belong anywhere. So, he looked at each one of the boys and took a deep breath.

“That would be great.”


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday! Thank you so much for your support of the story so far. I'm so happy people are reading it and liking it! Can't wait to hear what you think of Chapter 2! Also I'm sorry if the spacing on this is weird. I'm Dumb and for some reason I can't figure out ao3 formatting LOL.

**CHAPTER TWO**

_Monday, September 28, 2020_

The boys stopped by the hotel so that Luke could grab his things and check out. Luke swiped his room key through the reader and the boys filed inside. They waited by the door while Luke gathered his things; he threw his clothes, shoes, and songbooks into his duffel, swept into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, toothpaste, and the complimentary hotel soaps, and came back out for his guitar case. After taking one more glance around the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind, he looked at the boys once again. 

“Ready. Just gotta drop off the room key at the front desk.” He set off for the stairwell that led to the lobby. After he had returned the key and been checked out of the hotel, the group got on the bus to head to the house. 

As they rode, Luke looked out the bus window, taking in all the buildings, the people, the _life_ that Los Angeles contained. His insides ached to feel that life again. As the scenery passed by in a blur, he found his mind drifting, once again, to his parents. _What are they doing now? Do they regret telling me to leave? Do they even miss me at all?_

He briefly considered sending them a message first. “Hi, Mom & Dad. Just wanted to let you know I’m okay.” Would they even answer? And what would it mean for him if they didn’t?

Luke sighed. His parents no longer wanted him in their lives. He should just accept that. But, it was hard, knowing that they were probably moving on without a second thought for the son they had left behind. Luke wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t left the house the other night. Could they have worked things out? 

What hurt the most, he thought, was the realization that it didn’t even matter to them. _He_ didn’t matter. Here he was, in a completely new place with practically nothing and no parents, and he hadn’t gotten so much as an, “Are you alive?” text from them. He was suffering; they were free of a burden they’d had for eighteen years. They didn’t even know where he was, and they didn’t care.

It hurt to think that no matter where he went in life, he’d go there alone. He wouldn’t have parents to ask for advice anymore. He wouldn’t have anyone there to call if he got homesick or lonely. 

  
And along with the hurt, there was anger. How could they give up on him like that? Just because they had different ideas for where they wanted his life to end up. It was _his_ life, after all, and the control they had wanted to have over him still made his blood boil. Shouldn’t he be glad to be rid of them? He could finally do what he wanted. 

The problem was, what _did_ Luke want? To play music. To be heard. To inspire people. But how could he do that now, when he felt so small, so powerless, and so young? He was a kid. He couldn’t inspire anyone. His parents had ripped that confidence away from him, along with their love and the only home he’d ever known.

He was naive to think, once, that he could change the world for the better with his music. So far all he’d manage to do to his own world was completely upend it. 

There was a screech as the bus came to a stop. Bobby reached around Reggie and nudged Luke. “This is us.” 

Luke followed the boys off the bus and down a couple of blocks. A short while later, they stopped in front of a ranch house with pale yellow shingles, a gray roof, and a wide front door. “Here we are. Home sweet home,” Alex said. He stepped past Luke to unlock the front door, and led the way inside. “The place is pretty close to campus. It’s got four bedrooms, two baths, and a sick garage… also known as, our studio.” He grinned. “How about a tour?” 

Luke took in the main living area of the house. Looking straight ahead from the front door was a big, spacious kitchen with what appeared to be pretty new appliances. He wondered if any of the boys knew how to cook. His mother had taught him some stuff before-- 

_Stop it_ , he commanded himself. He tore his eyes away from the kitchen and looked to the right, where there was a living area with two mismatched couches, a brown leather recliner, an area rug with a questionable stain, and a coffee table. A decently sized television hung on the wall. There were empty paper plates stacked on the coffee table and a pair of sneakers kicked haphazardly underneath it. Upon closer inspection, Luke realized one was missing a shoelace. The television remote, Luke noticed, had been tied to one end of it, and the other was tied to a plastic hook that had been stuck to the wall next to the TV. The remote was dangling there, attached to the hook by the string.

Bobby followed Luke’s gaze and grinned. “That’s so Reginald here stops losing the remote. We made a holder for it.” 

Reggie made a disbelieving cry from somewhere behind Luke. “So stupid! And I never lose the remote, Robert! That is a lie, and I will not stand for the disrespect!” Bobby ignored his friend’s drama and went to pick up the plates that had been left on the table.

Turning towards the direction of Reggie’s voice, Luke was met with the dining room. A six-seater pedestal table took up the majority of the space, with folding chairs scattered around it. There were textbooks and pages of notes laying messily on the table, and in the middle, serving as a centerpiece, was a glass bowl with a goldfish swimming inside.

“That’s Regina,” Alex explained. “Bobby won it at this carnival we played a gig at a couple of weeks ago. It’s the biggest accomplishment of his life that it’s still alive.” He smirked.

“Regina is not an _it,_ Alexander, she’s a _her,_ and she’s thriving, thank you very much.” Bobby lectured. Luke had a feeling this was a conversation they’d had many times before. Alex waved Bobby off and continued. “He let Reggie name it. You don’t even know if it’s a ‘her,’ Bobby.” 

“Anyway,” Bobby said, wanting to steer the conversation away from his goldfish. “Whatcha think?” he gestured to the main living area. 

Luke looked around the space again. What did he think? It looked like a home. He almost winced at the sharp ache he suddenly felt for his own home. This place looked lived in; it looked _happy._ Luke loved every inch of it. “It’s awesome.” 

“Well, we still gotta show you the bedrooms,” Alex said. “I doubt you’ll still be thinking it’s ‘awesome’ after you see all the crap on Reggie’s floor-- Hey! Get off!” Reggie had jumped onto Alex’s back, trying to wrap him in a headlock. The two wrestled for a brief moment.

Bobby, however, did not wait for his friends to catch up. He gestured for Luke to follow him down the hallway, leaving the other boys to their squabble, and stopped in front of the first door on the right. “This is the first bathroom. The second one’s attached to Alex’s room in there.” He pointed to the door across the hall. Opening up the first door, he let Luke peek inside to see a simple bathroom, with a blue tiled floor and white countertops. A shower stood in the corner across from the toilet, and next to the toilet there was a counter with a sink and a cabinet above it. 

Bobby turned from the bathroom and opened up Alex’s door. This room had a beige carpet, with a double bed against the back wall. To the right of the bed was the door that Luke assumed led to the other bathroom. There were some band posters on the wall above the bed, and on the dresser stood a picture frame with a cartoon drawing of what looked to be Alex and Willie. A desk was up against the fourth wall, with a rolling chair and a closed binder on top. 

Alex’s room was neater than the living room. Luke guessed that the clutter in there had been left by either Bobby or Reggie. 

Bobby shut Alex’s door and continued on. Next to the bathroom on the right side of the hallway was another bedroom. “This one’s my room,” Bobby explained. He opened the door, and Luke saw that it was similar to Alex’s room: beige carpet, double bed, desk up against the wall. The only difference was that on the dresser, instead of a framed picture, Bobby had what appeared to be a jewelry box sitting atop a pile of books. “That’s our music stuff,” he explained. “I have guitar picks in that box, and the notebooks that we write our lyrics in. Alex and I didn’t trust Reggie to keep them in his room.” 

“Where do you keep your instruments?” Luke asked. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to see Alex’s drum kit hanging out in his bedroom. But the others must play smaller instruments. They had to keep their gear somewhere.

“I’m saving the best for last,” Bobby grinned. “Patience.” He shut the door to his bedroom and turned to the other side of the hallway. “Here’s Reggie’s room. Actually, on second thought, maybe I should spare you.” He laughed. “Ah, screw it. You live with us now. You gotta deal with the disaster that is Reggie Peters, too.” He opened Reggie’s door. 

Honestly, it was not as bad as Luke had been expecting. He assumed that the others’ criticism of Reggie was more of a fond brotherly annoyance type of thing. Reggie had a blue plaid comforter hanging off of his unmade bed, along with a pile of clean laundry he had yet to put away. There were a couple of open notebooks face down on the floor at the foot of the bed. To the left of the bed was the door that led to the shared bathroom with Alex. Across from the bed was the dresser, and a mirror hung crookedly on the wall above it. Taped to Reggie’s closet door was a bunch of pictures. Pictures of Reggie, Alex, Bobby, Julie, and Flynn, in various places, at various ages. The ones of Reggie and Alex appeared to be the oldest. While the other two boys’ rooms had desks, Reggie had opted for a folding bistro table next to the bed, on top of which sat a tablet and what appeared to be an empty mug. 

Leaving Reggie’s room, Bobby stopped next door. “This’ll be your room.” He opened the door to show Luke his new bedroom, which was pretty much identical to the others except for the lack of decorations. “Want a few minutes to put your stuff away before I show you the _pièce de résistance_?”

Luke put his duffel bag and guitar case on the bed. “Nah, I’ll do it later. What is it?”

Bobby led Luke out of the room to the door directly across the hall. “This, Luke Patterson…” He paused for dramatic effect, “is our studio!” He opened the door to a repurposed garage. None of the boys had cars, opting for public transportation to take them to and from classes. So, the garage had been turned into a band practice space. Luke saw Alex’s drum kit in the center of the room, and a stand with a bass guitar to its right. Another stand with a red electric guitar stood a few feet away from the bass, and front and center was a microphone stand. A huge, hand-painted banner that hung on the wall behind the instruments said SUNSET CURVE. 

“Flynn made that,” Bobby explained. “The barista at Delilah’s? She’s an art major at Covington.” 

The banner really was beautiful. Flynn had written the band name, _Sunset Curve_ , in black with artistically messy writing. Above the word ‘Sunset’ was a half-circle, obviously meant to look like one, and ‘Curve’ was underlined with a flourish. Around the band’s name, Flynn had filled the white background with a bunch of intricate drawings, none of which Luke understood the purpose for but some he could guess at. There was a goldfish, a guitar, some cymbals, a skateboard… they all looked to be items that represented the group and their friends. The biggest drawing, demanding attention near the bottom corner of the banner, was a dahlia. Surrounding everything, taking up most of the empty space, were scattered music notes.

“Wow,” Luke said. “That’s amazing. Flynn is really talented.” 

“We’ve been telling her that for years, yet somehow she never gets tired of hearing it.” Bobby laughed. His phone suddenly gave off a shrill beep, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Shoot. It’s almost time for class.” He turned around and headed for the main living space, and Luke followed. Alex and Reggie had heard the alarm and were in the process of collecting their things to bring to class. 

“So, Luke, our afternoon classes today are from one to 3:45,” Alex explained. “We’re all in the music program, so our schedules are pretty much the same. When we get back, we'll try playing a few songs together. And maybe we'll grab dinner or something after?” 

"Sounds good," Luke confirmed.

Alex frowned. “Will you be alright here alone? Wanna come to campus with us?” 

“Nah, that’s okay," Luke waved him off. "Thanks though. I… have some stuff to work on.” He thought of his song book with the two lines in it. Maybe he could make some progress on sorting out his thoughts while he had some time alone. 

“Alright… if you’re sure,” Alex replied. “We all have our phones so text us if you need anything. If you can’t find something, or whatever. We’ll answer.” 

“Thanks, you guys. Seriously.” Luke paused. “You’ve been really great to me, so… thanks.” 

Reggie smiled and slung an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “No need to thank us. You’re part of the family now, remember?” 

Not knowing how to respond to Reggie’s warmth, Luke just gave him a weak smile. If Reggie noticed his uncertainty, he didn’t say so. He shot Luke an easy smile in return and said, “See ya after class, buddy!” 

The other two boys followed Reggie out and Luke shut the door behind them. Taking in the now empty space, he sighed. 

That morning had been a lot. He had gone from having nowhere to go to inserting himself into a new “family,” and he had no idea how he felt about it. Reggie, Alex, and Bobby were really nice, and probably more welcoming than Luke deserved. They hadn’t even discussed rent with Luke. They’d just invited him, a man they had just met, to live with them because he’d had nowhere else to go. The contrast of his new “family” to his old one was making his head spin. Why were these boys so kind, so accepting, and his own parents-- the family he’d grown up with-- were not? 

Luke sighed, still frustrated. He realized now that biological families weren’t all they cracked up to be. The shock of realizing that he’d actually done something unforgivable in his parents’ eyes would have to recede at some point. All the times they’d told him they’d never stop loving him as a kid had turned out to be lies. 

And of course, it hurt. Being nothing but yourself and realizing that it’s not enough for some people to love did not feel good. Luke’s mind drifted back towards Alex in the cafe, when he had noticed Luke watching him and Willie. Alex must know what it’s like to not be enough for the people he loves, either. Luke wondered what his story was. 

Come to think of it, none of the boys other than Bobby had spoken of any family at all. Reggie hadn’t mentioned anyone, and the pictures Luke had seen taped to the closet door in his room were of friends only. Luke wondered what that meant. Maybe these boys _would_ understand the problems he was having with his own family. Maybe they’d all made a makeshift family out of each other, because that was all they had, too. 

All Luke could do now was try to fit himself into the space that Alex, Reggie, and Bobby had made for him. As he turned around to head to his bedroom, his phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. Who would be texting Luke now? Maybe one of the boys had forgotten something at the house. Maybe it was Willie, checking in to see how he liked his new place. Or maybe, a small part of Luke hoped, it was his mom or dad, finally reaching out to try to make amends. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. He did have a new message, but the number it was from had not been saved into his phone.

_Hi, Luke. This is Julie from the cafe. Reggie gave me your number! The guys told me that you’re getting settled into the house. If you need anything, let me know!_

Luke smiled, tapping out a reply. _Thanks, Julie. It was nice to meet you earlier. I think the guys said they wanted to grab dinner after class. It’d be cool if you could come?_

_That sounds fun! But I told Alex I can’t tonight. I have something to do after class._

As Luke was thinking of what to say back, his phone buzzed again. 

_How about tomorrow? I think the others have plans, but maybe you and I could get together? I feel bad about not really getting to know you at Delilah’s._

_That sounds great,_ he tapped back. _Can’t wait!_

_My next class is about to start. I’ll talk to you soon, Luke!_

_See ya, Julie!_

Luke put his phone back into his pocket. He realized he was still smiling. Straightening out his expression, he walked down the hall into his room. He zipped open his duffel bag and threw his clothes into the dresser drawer. Then he unzipped his guitar case and sat down on the bed, strumming the first chords that came to his mind.

He still hadn’t figured out the music for the song he’d been struggling with. Usually, he’d write the lyrics first anyway, but his lack of inspiration had him trying anything just to get this song out of his head. 

Playing his guitar, he let his mind wander again. This time, though, he thought about Julie. The anticipation for his plans with her the following night curled in his stomach. He had been curious about the girl with the dark, curly hair ever since he’d seen her sitting at the booth in Delilah’s. Now he would finally get to speak to her, and he was looking forward to learning more about her. Reggie had sounded confident when he'd said Julie should be studying music. So, why wasn't she? Who was this supposedly talented, musical girl who did not want to share that talent with the world?

When Luke had gotten his first guitar and realized his talent for music, that had been it for him. He had never stopped singing, playing, or writing something. It was his answer; whenever he was going through something, music was there. He couldn’t imagine giving that up, or not taking advantage of the talent he knew he had. Why was Julie different? 

Even now, when inspiration slipped through his fingertips and doubt crept into his mind, he knew he was talented. He’d taken guitar lessons since he was thirteen. He’d given lessons since he was fifteen. He would play his friends’ house parties, open mic nights throughout Garden Park… he’d even played for his mother’s book club once, after she’d grown tired of his begging. 

Any chance Luke got, he played. And people loved to listen to him. He still got messages on Facebook all the time, for lessons or gigs or songwriting advice. 

Luke wished that Julie could accept music, too. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t, and the curiosity was killing him. He resolved that when he saw her tomorrow, he’d ask her about it. What had Alex meant when he’d said that Julie “wasn’t into the whole ‘performing’ thing?” Was it just shyness? 

Luke couldn’t imagine being shy when you had as much talent as Julie’s friends thought she had. If people kept telling you how great you were, why wouldn’t you want to show that off? It didn’t make sense. 

He cut off the chord he was currently playing and laid his guitar back down on the bed. Pulling out his song book, he stepped over to the dark wooden desk and sat down. He would make some progress with this song, now. He had to. He looked down at what he’d written so far, the only two lines he’d managed to force out of his mind and onto the paper.

_If you could only know_

_I’d never let you go_

If only his parents could never let _him_ go, either. He sighed, forcing himself to think back to Friday night. What else would he say now, if he could?

_I should have turned around_

He should have. He had been waiting, so sure that his parents would never actually let him leave. He had trusted them too much, but he had also hurt them too much. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to say he was wrong. He’d wanted to be stopped. And that irrational desire to make his parents swallow their pride was what had cost him his family.

_I should have turned around, but I had too much pride._

He might as well tell it like it is. After all, if he couldn’t be honest with himself, especially in his music, what kind of songwriter was he? 

It stung, though. Yes, his parents had let him go, but he’d been the one to leave in the first place. It wasn’t all on them. He just wished he could tell them how sorry he was. He pictured it, now, knocking on his parents’ front door and telling them he was sorry. Maybe they’d let him back in and hear him out. He could explain how hurt he had been, Friday night, and how he’d only wanted to be understood. 

And his parents would try to do that. They’d give him one more chance, because he was their son, and this whole thing had gotten so out of control. He pictured the conversation… and then his mind ground to a halt.

That conversation would never happen. He would never gather the courage to knock on his parents’ door, not until he had something to show for his impulsive escape. He had to prove them wrong first, or they’d never see that they had been part of the problem. The conversation he was so meticulously planning out in his head could not happen.

_Conversations in my head_

_But that’s just where they’re gonna stay forever_

_Probably forever,_ his anxiety hissed in his mind, _because you probably_ aren’t _good enough. She was right. They were right. You’re delusional. You--_

That was enough writing for now. He slammed the notebook shut, willing the sound of the pages coming together to drown out the negative voices in his head. 

Luke stood up. He wanted to take a walk. 

He wanted to not think about his uncertainty for another second.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thirsty Thursday, everyone!! This week has been such a blast, sharing the love for this show and seeing all your amazing creations. If nothing else, I'm so grateful to JATP for bringing everyone together. We've formed such an awesome community and I've met so many supportive people! Speaking of which, I want to thank Mads as usual (sunset_phantom) but also, my new friend Sara (richietoaster) for hyping me up and being super awesome and fun to talk to!! This is the first chapter that hasn't been beta read, so I'm just tossing this out there and crossing my fingers lol! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

**CHAPTER THREE**

_Monday, September 28, 2020_

For the second time that day, Luke found himself standing in front of Delilah’s Cafe. Flynn was still at the counter; he could see her through the glass door. He let himself in, and she looked up when he entered. 

“Hey, Luke. Welcome back!” she said.

“Hi, Flynn,” he smiled at her. “Remember how I said I just moved here? Well, I kind of need a job. Do you know if this place could use any more help?” 

“Let me grab the manager for you. I know we could definitely use some help… being the only one here on a Monday is _not_ cute!” She disappeared through the back door that said “Employees Only,” and Luke waited. 

Moments later Flynn returned, a middle-aged man at her heels. “Luke, this is Mr. Rosa. He owns this place.” Addressing her boss, she said, “this is Luke. He just moved here and he’s looking for a job.” 

A while later, Luke walked out of Mr. Rosa’s office at Delilah’s Cafe with an apron over his arm and a shift scheduled for the following day. He felt better now that he’d have some sort of income, some way to pay back the boys for letting him crash in their house. Glancing at his phone, he saw that it was just about four o’clock. The others would be getting back from class soon. 

“Luke,” Flynn called. He turned toward her and saw that she was holding out a cup to him. “Consider this a ‘congratulations on becoming my co-worker’ gift!” She laughed and handed him the coffee.

“Thanks,” he said appreciatively. “When’s your shift over today?”

“Pretty soon,” she replied. “When the boys get out of class, they usually stop here for a bit, and then I leave with them.” 

She paused, taking a sip of her own coffee that Luke had now noticed sitting next to the register. “I have no classes Mondays, because I wanted to get in at least one full day of work a week. I help my dads out with my college tuition… but since I’m a double major, on the other four days I have double the classes.” She grimaced.

“Wow. Sounds like you work really hard,” Luke said, impressed. He had a newfound respect for Flynn, for working and going to school full-time. 

“Totally,” Flynn agreed. “But anyway, since I don’t have class today, the guys come meet me here when they get done, and most of the time I go back to their house for a while.”

“How long have you all known each other?” Luke wondered.

“Julie and I have been friends since we were kids.” Flynn smiled. “The others came along later. We met them in high school.” 

A short time later, the bells on the door sounded with a new entry. Bobby and Reggie swooped into Delilah’s, Alex following closely behind. Luke noticed that Willie was absent. 

“Hey, guys!” Flynn called. “Guess what?” 

“Hey, Flynnie,” Reggie said, plopping into one of the stools near the counter. “Hey, Luke! How’s it going, man?” 

“Well, Luke just got a job here! Mr. Rosa said he could start tomorrow.”

Alex and Bobby sat down too, in the stools on either side of Reggie. “Cool!” Bobby exclaimed, “now I have two of my friends to give me free coffee when I come here!”

Flynn rolled her eyes. “You trying to get Luke fired before he’s even started?” she snapped good-naturedly. “Pay for your coffee like everybody else!”

Bobby waved her off, pulling out his cell phone and tapping out a message. Flynn turned around, pouring some coffee into a to-go cup, and handed it to Alex. “Here, Alex. On the house.” She smirked as Bobby looked up from his phone in disbelief. 

“Hey! Why does _he_ get free coffee?” 

Flynn replied, but Luke tuned out their friendly bickering in favor of watching Reggie. He was writing something in a notebook and humming to himself. “What are you writing, Reggie?”

Reggie looked up at him and grinned. “New Sunset Curve song. It’s called--” 

“I told you, we are _not_ playing a song called ‘Home Is Where My Horse Is.’”

“Come on, Bobby! Sunset Curve _has to_ go country! I bought the banjo and everything!”

Alex nudged Luke’s shoulder. “Get ready to hear this argument, like, at least once a week.” 

“It wouldn’t _be_ an argument if Bobby here would just--” 

“Country is stupid! We’re a _rock_ band.” 

“ _You’re_ stupid!”

Alex sighed and looked at Luke. “We take turns writing the songs. Reggie always tries to sell us some country thing, and Bobby never goes for it.” 

“That’s because Bobby wouldn’t know a good song if it--” 

“You write songs, Luke?” Bobby cut Reggie off. 

Once again, Luke thought of his song book, whose pages stayed stubbornly empty. “Yeah… sort of.”

“Are they country?” Reggie asked excitedly.

“No! It’s a mix, I guess. Usually, I write rock songs, too, but this last one…” he stopped. “It’s supposed to be slower. It’s acoustic.” It was unfinished, too, but he left that part out. 

“That’s cool,” Alex said. “We could always do some acoustic stuff too… if you wanted to, of course.” 

Luke paused. Of course, he wanted to be part of the band, to share his music with his new friends. But a song like this? He wasn’t sure. 

After all, he hadn’t known these boys for very long. He knew that they knew that he’d been in a rough situation, having no family and all, but they didn’t know the details. And his current “rough situation” was all he could think about at the moment. He didn’t know if he could write happy, upbeat rock songs when in his heart, he felt the opposite. He didn’t know how long it would take him to get to that place again. 

He supposed he’d have to play through the bad stuff in order to get back to the good. “The song I’m working on… it’s not done. I can’t finish it.” He looked at the boys, expecting the questions. 

“Writer’s block?” Bobby grimaced knowingly. “Been there, dude. It sucks.” 

“Maybe we could help?” Alex offered. “Wanna show us what you’ve got so far?” 

Nerves started to build up in Luke’s chest. He knew, logically, that being in a band with these boys meant that he’d have to share his songs with them. But _this_ one? He didn’t feel ready. He didn’t want to share feelings that he was so unsure about himself, especially with his three new bandmates. He didn’t understand how he felt. That’s why he couldn’t put the words to paper, really, because it was all so raw and new and honest. Did he want to risk scaring off his new friends with his traumatic past, so soon into their relationship? 

The boys were waiting for his response. “I think I just need to figure it out on my own.” Luke paused. “Thanks, though.”

“Dude, we’re a band now,” Reggie assured him. “If you get stuck with a song, we can totally help. That’s what we’re here for!” 

“I get it, it’s just-- the song’s kind of personal.” 

“That’s okay,” Alex said. “Let’s head back to the house. If you feel like you wanna show us later, fine. But if not, that’s also fine.” He stood up from his spot at the counter. “Flynn, you coming? I think we’re going to go pick up a pizza.” 

Flynn glanced at the clock. “Yeah, I can leave. Let me just hang up my apron and say goodbye to Mr. Rosa.” Again, she stepped away into the back room. 

A quick bus ride later, the group was walking the short distance to the Sunset Curve house. As they stepped up to the front gate, Luke noticed the top of a bicycle helmet peeking out. Willie was sitting on the front steps, phone in his hand and skateboard at his side. He looked up at the noise the gate made and grinned at Alex. “Told you I’d get here first!” 

Alex laughed and met Willie halfway. They hugged, and then Alex took his hand and led him towards the front door. “How was class?” 

“It was good,” Willie said. “But, I got a group project for my Speech class. Carrie Wilson’s in my group.” 

“Sounds like it’ll be a monologue, then,” Bobby chuckled. “Carrie’s my cousin, Luke. She’s very… opinionated. No wonder she’s in a Speech class.” 

“Carrie’s nice,” Willie insisted. “But, she’s just…”

“Controlling and pushy?”

“She’s not _pushy,_ Bobby. She just… knows what she wants and goes for it, ya know?” 

“Carrie has this music group she made with her friends. Dirty Candy,” Reggie explained to Luke. “They’ve been playing a bunch of school functions, like rallies and halftimes at games and stuff. But the thing is, they don’t _sign up_ to play. They don’t ask for permission. They just… do it.” 

“People love them, though,” Bobby insisted. “Her band is pretty good.” 

Flynn let out a huff. “I think that _she_ thinks they’re better than they are. I’ve always thought she just couldn’t handle being told no. She’d like, melt, or something.”

Willie pulled off his helmet and shook out his long hair. “Still, that’s my point. She’s very persistent.” He laid the helmet down on the front steps next to his skateboard. 

“Yeah, but being in a group with her means you probably won’t have to do much, though.” Reggie laughed. “Anyway, Luke. I stopped by the hardware store near campus and made you a copy of the house key.” He held the small, gold key out to Luke. “See if it works.” 

Luke stuck the key into the lock and turned it. It did work. Having a key to a house just three days after he’d left his old one behind felt surreal. He remembered putting the key to his parents’ house on the shelf in the garage on Friday night. He’d figured he wouldn’t need it anymore.

But now, he had a new key. A new key that unlocked a new life that he was finally beginning to feel like he could fit into. 

The boys and Flynn piled into the house. Alex deposited the pizza box onto the dining room table, and then followed the rest of the group to the back door that led to the garage. 

Alex made his way behind his drum set and started adjusting things. Reggie slung his bass over his shoulder and plucked some strings, making sure it was in tune. To his right, Bobby did the same with his guitar. “So, Luke. Should we just play one of the songs we have for now? Then maybe you can jump in after; we’ll play a cover or something that you know, so we can start getting the vibe of us all playing together.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Luke agreed easily.

Flynn and Willie settled onto two of the beanbag chairs to listen, and Luke followed, opting instead to sit on the couch. 

Alex counted the group off and then he, Reggie, and Bobby started to play. It was, as Luke had expected, an upbeat, catchy number. As Luke watched, he found himself itching to join them. The boys’ band was really something. The energy they gave off captured Luke, and when Flynn pulled him up to dance with her, he went willingly. 

When the song ended, Luke joined Willie and Flynn in their applause, and looked to Bobby. “Wow,” he started.

“That was ‘Long Weekend,’” Bobby explained, “written by yours truly.” 

“Oh, please,” Alex scoffed. “Bobby and I wrote that one _together_.” 

“It was really good,” Luke assured them. “Your band’s awesome.” 

“ _Our_ band!” Reggie said. “Now it’s your turn. Go grab your guitar, Patterson!” 

Luke crossed the hall to his bedroom and grabbed his guitar case. “Small problem,” he said, putting it down next to the couch. “I only brought my acoustic with me.” 

There was an electric guitar he’d been eyeing back at the music shop in Garden Park. He’d been planning to buy it as a birthday present to himself, but with all that had happened over the weekend, he’d forgotten. 

The acoustic guitar that he’d brought with him to Los Angeles had been the replacement for the first guitar he’d ever owned. That had been acoustic, too; his parents hadn’t known anything about guitars when they’d bought it so they just chose the simplest one. When Luke played his secret gigs around the neighborhood, sometimes he’d had to either borrow a friend’s electric or rent one. He had gotten by, but he really wished he’d gotten to purchase his _own_ electric guitar. Especially now. Now that he was making money from working at Delilah’s, that would definitely have to be his next purchase.

The band didn’t seem deterred by Luke not having the right guitar, though. “That’s cool,” Bobby said easily. “I have another one in my closet. Reggie uses it sometimes.” 

  
  


He disappeared next door to get the guitar. When he returned, he passed it to Luke and Luke slung the strap over his shoulder. He gave it a quick strum to see how out of tune it was. As he fiddled with the tuning keys, he turned to the band.

“What should we play?” 

“Do you know any Rolling Stones?” 

Luke did. His father was a fan; he had quite a few of their albums, along with an old record player that he’d play almost every day when Luke was growing up. Luke remembered sitting in the living room with his father, hearing stories about the memories he associated with each song. Luke remembered staying up late, trying to memorize the lyrics so he could sing along to the songs like his dad did. 

Pushing those memories aside, he said, “Yeah. I know some.”

“You Can’t Always Get What You Want?” Bobby suggested. 

Luke knew that, too. All too well. “Sounds good.” 

“Take the lead on vocals,” Bobby instructed.

And then Alex was counting them off and the song began. Luke knew it by heart; it was one of his dad’s favorites and one of the first songs he’d taught himself how to play. 

Playing with Sunset Curve was magic. For the first time, Luke actually felt connected to the other boys, to _their_ band. It was electric. He belted out the words, feeling all his worries leave his mind as he focused on the one thing he loved doing. Playing music, especially here, with his new friends, eased some of the numbness he’d been feeling in his chest for the past weekend. He felt alive again. 

He was so into the music, that when the song ended, the silence rang in his ears. He was breathing heavily, having given his all to that performance. Finally, he looked up to see his friends’ reactions. Willie and Flynn were grinning wildly. Bobby and Reggie were jumping up and down, hitting each other enthusiastically. And Alex was looking at Luke from behind his drum kit, the expression on his face reminiscent of the one Luke’s mother had made when she’d finally found the old ring she’d been missing for years. 

“Dude,” Bobby spoke. “That was…” 

“That was awesome!” Reggie exclaimed. “Luke, that was insane!” 

“Totally insane,” Flynn agreed. “You were amazing! Everything Bobby’s been trying to be for years!” She laughed. 

“Hey, hey,” Bobby said. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far.” He looked at Luke again. “But, seriously. If you can play like _that_ , you should definitely be in the music program at Covington. You could have, like, a career.”

Luke swallowed. That was everything he had been wanting to hear, although it was coming from the wrong person. Still, the confirmation that his hopes and dreams hadn’t been worthless gave him the confidence to accept Flynn’s and Bobby’s words. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot.” 

“Alright, enough sap,” Flynn said. “Let’s go eat pizza!” 

The rest of the night passed in that way, eating pizza around Sunset Curve’s dining table, talking and laughing and getting to know his new friends. Luke realized, halfway through the night, that he felt at home. He had been nothing but himself for these people, and they had wedged him into their group and wanted him to stay there. They had encouraged him to keep playing music, not pushed his dreams aside like they meant nothing, like he wasn’t good enough. In this place, for these people, he _was_ good enough. 

So why did the voice in the back of his head still insist to him that he wasn’t?


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!! I hope you like chapter 4. I know I say this repeatedly and she's probably tired of hearing it by now, but Mads (sunset_phantom) LITERALLY saved this chapter, so THANK YOU MADS for being so patient and wonderful! I'm still not completely happy with how it turned out but that's just because of who I am as a person so.... I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! Happy Spotlight Saturday! Trigger warning for a panic attack in this chapter.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_Monday, September 28, 2020_

The buzz from Sunset Curve’s first performance lingered for the rest of the evening. 

As Luke stood in the shower later that night, he thought back to what had happened after the band played together for the first time, smiling to himself. They’d sounded like they were always meant to be a foursome. Luke had ended up having a really great time with Willie and Flynn that night, too, and he felt like he’d gotten to know them all a lot better.

After the band had played, the group gathered in the dining room. Reggie and Flynn passed out plates for the pizza while Luke helped Alex and Willie grab drinks from the fridge. 

Bobby had made a beeline for the table, grabbing the glass bowl that housed Regina the goldfish and moving it safely across the room, out of the way. 

“Yeah, sure, you can move the fish, but not help us set the table,” Alex teased from the kitchen. 

“It’s called responsibility, Mercer!” Bobby shot back. “Regina doesn’t need you or Reggie here knocking her bowl over in your rush to get to the food. She has feelings too, ya know!” 

After the table had been set, everyone sat down, grabbing the plates and shoving the pizza into their hungry mouths. 

As they’d eaten, they’d made easy conversation. Alex and Willie had talked about the date they went on that past weekend, that had resulted in an old woman chasing them out of the gazebo in her backyard. 

Reggie had regaled them all with a story about one of his classes that day, where he’d had a substitute professor that he insisted was Albert Einstein’s ancient twin brother. “The dude looked _exactly_ like him!”

Eventually, the conversation turned to Luke. “How long have you been playing guitar, Luke?” Willie wondered. 

“Since I was thirteen,” Luke had said. “My parents--” then he’d stopped, unwilling to broach the topic of them just yet. “I got a guitar for my birthday that year, and I took lessons. Then when I was fifteen, I started teaching other kids how to play.” 

“Have you been writing songs for that long, too?” Alex asked him.

“Pretty much,” he’d confirmed. “I started writing for my English classes, like, random stories and poems for assignments and stuff. And then one day, I decided to try to write music.” Even though those first songs had been pretty bad, Luke still remembered the pride he’d felt as he’d played them.

“You know how it is,” he continued. “I sucked at first. But… but then when I actually, um, had stuff to write about... It was easier after that.” 

His parents had started out as a willing enough audience for their son, and his budding hobby. At fourteen, Luke had written his first ever song, about some girl in his math class that he’d fallen for. When he played it for his parents, they had been proud of his creativity. But those once proud faces turned into countless arguments as the years went on, and those arguments were the subject of countless songs that now occupied the pages of Luke’s song books.

_Why did you get a D on your math test, Luke? You stay up too late playing that stupid guitar._

_I think you should give English tutoring after school, instead of coming home and playing that music. It would look good on your college applications._

_Why do you want to play songs at my book club? The ladies are there to_ read _, Luke. You’d only be a distraction._

“Yeah, it totally gets easier with experience,” Reggie’s voice had cut through Luke’s thoughts. “I remember my first song was, like, an ode to pizza. It slapped, though.”

“ _Pepperoni and cheese, I’ve never felt so free, when I’m eating thee...”_ Bobby sang, in a wildly inaccurate impression of Reggie’s voice.

“Shut up,” Reggie had said, over Alex‘s laughter. “Clearly, we’ve all come a long way from singing about pizza. Hey, you okay?” 

Luke had realized then that Reggie had been looking at him, but he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to notice.

Seeing that Luke was distracted, Reggie had turned to Alex. “You think I scared him off with my pizza song?” 

Luke had gotten so caught up in the thoughts of what he’d left behind, of things he could have said in those moments of anger. He was remembering the looks on his parents’ faces when they were telling him to leave. 

“Luke?” Bobby’s concerned voice had finally reached Luke’s ears. Luke started slightly and shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts, and looked back up at his friends.

“Yeah, sorry. I just got a little distracted for a minute.” 

It was at that point in the evening, Luke reflected now, that his friends had realized there was something wrong. Willie took his distraction as an indicator that maybe they should cut the night short. 

“Maybe we should go,” the skater had suggested. “Luke’s had a long day. We should probably let the guys get some sleep.” 

Flynn agreed, wanting to get home to rest up for her early morning class.

When Bobby and Alex had gotten up to see their friends out, Reggie stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on Luke.

“Hey,” he called.

Luke met his gaze. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah.” Luke nodded, deciding to take advantage of the excuse Willie had provided for him. “Willie was right, I’m just really tired. I think an early night would be good.” 

By that point, the hands on the clock were approaching 8:30. “I’ll probably just take a shower and go to bed.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Reggie had agreed easily. “There’s shampoo and stuff already in there; you can use anything you want.”

Luke nodded his thanks and headed off to the bathroom. 

* * *

As he emerged from the shower, he heard voices talking outside in the main room. He snuck across the hall and hid behind his bedroom door to listen. 

“He said Garden Park.” Alex said.

“That’s like an hour away,” Bobby pointed out. “I wonder why he left so quickly…” 

“If Luke wanted to tell us, he would.” Alex said. “I think that we shouldn’t push him so soon after meeting him, you know? How would you feel if you had to tell your whole life story to strangers?” 

“Luke’s in our band now,” Reggie insisted. “He’s not a stranger, he’s our friend. We should let him know he can talk to us about stuff.” 

“I think whatever it was that made him leave, he wasn’t expecting it,” Bobby said. “Sounds like he just ran without thinking. He decided to come to the city, get a hotel for a couple nights, and figure out a plan.” 

“What did he run from, though?” Alex wondered. “I wanna ask, but…”

“You don’t want to seem pushy,” Bobby finished. “I get it. It’s just like with Julie.”

Luke was confused. What could he possibly have in common with Julie? 

But Alex agreed. “Yeah. I mean, we _know_ what’s wrong with Julie, but…” he drifted off. 

“I think we just have to give him time. He’ll talk to us when he’s ready, right?” Bobby said. 

“You think someone could be looking for him?” Reggie worried. “Like, he said he had no family, but… I thought he mentioned his parents, before.” 

“That doesn’t mean much,” Alex said. “Think about _our_ track records with parents.”

“True.”

Luke wondered what Alex meant. The band’s track records with parents? Luke could guess what Alex’s issue with his parents was-- the way he’d seemed cautious of Luke’s presence around Willie back at Delilah’s was a huge indicator. But he had no idea what Reggie’s or Bobby’s issues could be.

“Still, guys,” Bobby said. “We should probably ask him. I mean, if it’s something serious…” 

“We’ll ask,” Alex decided. “Tomorrow.” 

The boys’ conversation moved onto other topics, and eventually faded out altogether. Once Luke could hear the sound of a movie starting on the television, he turned from the door and climbed into his bed. He tried to take some deep breaths to ease the pounding in his heart. He wasn’t ready for the boys to ask him about why he’d come to L.A. He didn’t want to talk about it. Still, he knew he owed them answers. He was a stranger who had moved into their home, and he was part of Sunset Curve now. They had to form some sort of trusting relationship in order to be in a band together. 

After all, Luke thought, if he couldn’t get over his writer’s block and had to write depressing songs about his parents forever, the rest of them would have to understand why. They’d keep asking, keep worrying, and eventually Luke would have to tell them the truth. He only hoped that when he did, they wouldn’t feel bad for him, or look at him like he was broken.

The time on his phone now said 9:00. Luke plugged the phone into his charger, rested it on his nightstand, and switched off the bedside lamp.

* * *

  
  


_The house was silent and dark. Nobody was home, but Luke would wait. He had figured out what he had wanted to say to his parents. He had rehearsed his apology speech countless times in his head, and he was determined. He wouldn’t let them push him away again. He would go in there, heart in his hands, and make them a family again. He’d make them understand._

_After a while, he started to feel anxious. His parents’ absence left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was nervous; he wanted to get this conversation over with. He had so much to say._

_His mother’s Honda finally pulled into the driveway, and his parents emerged. Emily Patterson took in the sight of her son sitting on the front steps with an unreadable expression._

_“We told you to leave, Luke.”_

_He locked eyes with his mom, who was now standing in the driveway with bags in her hands. His dad didn’t acknowledge him at all, stepping around him and starting to unlock the front door._

_Luke’s mother turned to face him. “This isn’t your home anymore. You did this.”_

_Luke gulped and stood up. “I didn’t mean it. I want to fix this.”_

_“There’s nothing to fix. You made your choice.”_

_Luke took a deep breath, ready to launch into the speech he’d prepared. He opened his mouth, but his mother cut him off with a sneer. “Listen to yourself,” she snapped. “Did you ever once stop to think about how your father and I feel? Having a disappointment like you for a son?” She poked Luke’s chest with her index finger, causing him to stumble backwards. “You’re the one who turned your back on us! Because you_ always _have to be right. Never mind the fact that we’re your parents; we’re older, wiser, we know better! Never mind that. Luke Patterson knows best!” She laughed angrily. “You know best! So, go. Figure it out.”_

_“But, mom… I_ can’t _figure it out. I was wrong. I need you.” The tears Luke had been holding back finally started to fall, clogging up his nose, blurring his eyesight, and making his voice crack. “I just want you to forgive me. I want to start over. I want--”_

_“‘I want?’ ‘I want?’” Emily shot back. “That’s your problem. You want too much. You want the world and you think it’s just going to fall into your lap. We’ve tried to tell you this: you don’t have what it takes. The only way for you to see it now is for you to fail.”_

_“I_ have _failed!” Luke cried. “Leaving home the first time. Leaving you guys. That was a mistake. I should have--”_

_“You should have listened to us.” Emily finished for him. “Doesn’t matter now. We don’t want you back.”_

_Luke froze, not understanding his mother’s words. They... didn’t want him back? He had made one mistake, had one bout of teenage rebellion, and that was it? His parents were done with him forever? It didn’t make sense. He had to keep trying. If he just apologized enough, his mom would give in._

_“I’m sorry!” he shouted. Emily turned around, heading for the house. “I’m sorry!” Luke called after her. “Mom, I’m--”_

_The front door slammed shut._

_Once again, Luke was alone, his own desperate apologies still ringing in his ears._

* * *

“Luke! Wake up!” 

Someone was shaking him. Luke shot up in bed, breathing heavily, his apologies from the nightmare still on his lips. His frantic eyes found Reggie, who was looking back at him in shock. “What happened? You kept screaming that you were sorry!”

Luke tried to get his breathing under control. He had to assure Reggie that he was fine; it was just a nightmare, and they should both go back to bed. 

Except, Luke realized, he _wasn’t_ fine.

He couldn’t speak. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

What was happening to him? His head was pounding. He felt uncomfortably hot. His breath came in frantic gasps that supplied no relief for his aching lungs. He was dizzy; his own cries and his mother’s unforgiving voice still echoed in his head. 

Reggie realized that Luke seemed to be losing it. “Alex!” he called. “Alex, we need you!” 

Seconds later, Alex flew into the room, Bobby right behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I think he’s having a panic attack,” Reggie said, pulling Alex over to the bed. “He was having a nightmare, and I woke him up, but…” He was still staring at Luke with wide eyes.

Alex moved so that he was sitting on the bed in front of Luke. “Luke, listen to me.” 

Luke was listening, but he couldn’t respond. He was afraid if he opened his mouth and tried to speak, that he really _would_ lose it. He tried to focus on Alex’s voice anyway.

“Try to breathe with me, okay?” He demonstrated slow, deep breaths that felt so unachievable to Luke in that moment, it was almost funny. 

But Alex was patient with him, and eventually, Luke’s heart rate slowed. The anxiety didn’t subside, though, and his breaths still came shakily. He kept his eyes closed.

When he seemed calm enough, Bobby spoke up. “Reg, we should give him some space. Alex has him. Let’s go back to our rooms.” 

Reggie must have agreed, because Luke felt the two of them get up from the bed and heard the door shut as they left. He finally opened his eyes and met Alex’s worried stare.

“I’m sorry about that,” he croaked.

“What?” Alex said in disbelief. “Luke, don’t apologize.” He took in Luke’s appearance for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“That doesn’t usually happen,” Luke insisted. “The nightmares, or the-- any of it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you all up.” 

“Don’t worry about waking us up. Listen,” Alex paused, “I get panic attacks too. I know what they’re like. I wake the others up sometimes, too.”

“Is that why Reggie called for you?”

“Yeah. He knew I’d be able to help you better than he could. How are you feeling now?”

How _was_ he feeling? “Tired.”

Alex glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s only 2:00... I think you should try to get some rest.” 

Luke doubted he’d be able to. His heart was still throbbing in his chest, and he felt like if he closed his eyes, his mother’s uncaring expression from his nightmare would remain there, behind his eyelids, judging him. 

“Will you be alright?” the blond boy asked. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

After a moment’s hesitation, Alex stood. “Okay… but if you need anything, you can wake me up. I don’t mind.” 

Luke didn’t want to bother Alex again in the middle of the night. He gave him a neutral hum, and the blond boy left the room.

At last, Luke was alone. 

He plopped back down into the bed and stared up at the ceiling, begging his eyes to stay open until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Also, I re-outlined this entire thing last night, and it turns out there's actually going to be 17 chapters and an epilogue. So, 18 chapters total. I still have a decent amount of it left to write, but it's coming along!!


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter!! Thanks for reading! Also, shoutout to Sara (richietoaster) for all her help with this one!!! I have such amazing people supporting me on my writing journey and I can't thank you all enough!

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_Tuesday Sept. 29_

At six o’clock, Luke heard Reggie’s alarm sound through the wall that separated the boys’ rooms. A few moments later, he heard Reggie shift around in bed, and the beeping stopped. 

Luke had not gone back to sleep after his nightmare. He had stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, fighting against the anxiety and the guilt that battled in his mind. He supposed the five or so hours of sleep he’d managed the night before would have to be enough for the foreseeable future.

His first shift at Delilah’s Cafe was scheduled for nine o’clock that morning. He’d get up, get breakfast with the guys, Flynn, and Julie, and then see them all off to class. Whatever time the others finished their classes that afternoon, they’d meet him at the cafe, and at five o’clock he would switch shifts with Flynn and leave with the rest of them. 

Flynn had told him the basics of what to expect, working at Delilah’s. _Mr. Rosa usually just stays in his office. It’s not gonna be so busy between like, 9 and 12, but we get a lot of people coming in for lunch sometimes. The coffee machines need to be cleaned twice a day. I’ll do it when I leave tonight, but Mr. Rosa will probably teach you how to do it when you get there. He’ll also try to teach you how to make some of the drinks, but he sucks at it, so I’ll give you a better lesson when I get there after class._

Luke had never worked in a cafe before, but it seemed pretty self-explanatory: make coffee, get muffins out of the display case, and try not to spill anything. He supposed he could handle that. 

He looked up at the sound of a knock and saw Reggie in the doorway. “Morning,” he said. “We’re gonna go to Delilah’s for breakfast before class. The girls are meeting us there. You coming?” 

Luke got up and assembled his outfit for the day. His apron for Delilah’s was folded on top of the dresser. He put on a plain gray t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a black beanie, and slung the red Delilah’s apron over his arm. He slipped into a pair of socks and shoes, made a quick stop to the bathroom, and met up with the others in the kitchen. 

“Good morning! You all set?” Alex greeted him. Luke nodded. 

“First day of work today, huh?” Bobby gestured to the apron he was holding. “Flynn hates that thing. Said hers came with a weird stain on it.” 

Luke laughed. “No stains on this one yet,” he assured him. “But give it a couple hours. I’ve never worked at a coffee shop before… I’m bound to spill something somewhere.” 

Bobby paused. “So, um… how are you? After…” 

“I’m alright, Bobby.” 

“Did you get any more sleep?” Bobby’s eyes glanced over Luke’s face, taking in the bags under his eyes. “Guess not, huh?” 

There was no point denying it. Luke knew he looked terrible. “No.”

“Well, listen. I think the four of us should talk later. Like, tonight.”

“You guys don’t have to worry about me,” Luke insisted.

Bobby made to reply, but Reggie beat him to it. “You’re our friend, Luke. We just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“Great. But we’re still gonna talk later,” Alex said. Without waiting for Luke to argue, he herded the boys out the door.

When they got to Delilah’s, Flynn and Julie were already seated at the corner table. Julie was facing the door, and she waved at them when she saw them enter. The boys made their way over to the table. Alex, Reggie, and Bobby plopped their school bags down and sat. Bobby took the head of the table like he had the day before, so Luke sat on the end in between him and Reggie. 

“Hey, Flynn. Hey, Jules,” Alex greeted easily. 

Julie zipped up her bookbag and put it on the bench to her side. “Hey, guys!” She caught Luke’s eye across the table and her face lit up. “Hey, Luke! How was your first night rooming with these bozos?”

“It was fine,” Luke chuckled. “Wish you could have hung out with us, though.”

Julie frowned. “Me too. But, my dad needed me for something.” She pushed the remnants of a blueberry muffin across the table to Reggie. “Here, Reg. I don’t want any more of this.” 

“Thanks, Julie!” Reggie scooped up muffin crumbs, shoving them into his mouth.

“Anyway,” Julie continued. “My dad wanted me home last night because we’ve been cleaning out our garage. There’s lots of stuff in there that, um…” She stopped, looking down at the table. 

“I told you I’d come help you with that, Jules,” Alex said kindly.

“I know. I didn’t want you to,” she insisted. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, but--” 

“Leave it, Alex,” Flynn warned. She shot Julie a nervous glance. 

“It’s okay,” Julie said. “I know Alex is just trying to help.” She looked at him again. “I appreciate it, really. It’s just… hard.” She sighed. “We have to get all her stuff put away, and I know that Dad said he’d do it, but… it’s hard for him too, you know? I didn’t want him to do it if he didn’t have to. He has even more memories of her in there than I do.”

Luke was confused, but before he could ask, Julie spoke again. 

“It’s been six months… I had to start going through her stuff eventually.” She looked up, finally, and saw Luke looking at her, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Oh, sorry, Luke,” she realized. “You don’t know what we’re talking about.” 

Luke was about to tell her it was fine, that she didn’t have to tell him anything if she didn’t want to. After all, he knew what it was like to be hounded about his problems. But then Julie started speaking again. 

“We’re talking about my mom. She… died, in the spring. My dad and I have been cleaning her stuff out of the house, putting it into boxes…” 

“Oh damn, Julie.” Luke didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” 

“Thanks,” she smiled softly. “She… we knew it was coming. She’d been sick for a while.” 

The table fell into silence. Luke waited for Julie to continue, but she didn't bring up her mom again. After a few moments, she looked to Alex.

“Where’s Willie this morning?” 

“His classes don’t start until 11. He likes to sleep in.” Alex smiled fondly. 

“How long have you two been together, anyway?” Luke wondered.

“Since sophomore year of high school,” Alex replied. “We’ve known each other since elementary school, though. It’s just…” he paused. “Neither of us were really on board with the whole ‘gay’ thing for a while. Willie had tried dating other people before, guys and girls, but nothing really worked out. And, well…” He sighed, then continued. “My parents gave me a lot of problems about it.” 

Luke definitely understood parents giving you problems. He didn’t want to push Alex. He gave him a small smile of understanding. “I’m sorry about that. Sounds rough.” 

“Yeah. His parents were terrible,” Reggie agreed. 

“Were?”

“Once I came out to them, like, fully… they didn’t accept me.” Alex explained. “They would always try to push me in the direction of girls, you know? Like, set me up with their friends’ daughters and everything. But I knew I didn’t wanna be with a girl. I was just trying to...”

“Avoid conflict,” Luke finished for him. 

Alex nodded. “Exactly. It didn’t really work out, though.” He laughed humorlessly. “One day at the beginning of sophomore year, I just snapped. We had this huge fight, and I just told them: I’m gay.” He looked downwards for a moment, fiddling with the drawstring on his hoodie. “They didn’t take it well. But, luckily, I was able to crash with Reggie for a while. His house wasn’t the best either, but…” he paused. “It was something.” 

“Anyway,” Alex continued, “after we graduated high school, the three of us, and Bobby here, decided to stay together for college. We picked LA because it’s a big city. We knew we wanted to start a band, but nothing was guaranteed… So we figured we’d study music here, and it’d be a pretty easy place to get gigs and build up a fanbase.” 

“Willie plays music, too?” Luke asked. 

“Not a musical bone in his body,” Alex grinned. “He’s studying political science.” 

“He’s gonna be president one day,” Reggie declared.

“He’s a people person,” Bobby commented. “Lots of charisma.”

“Wow, you know what ‘charisma’ means?” Alex teased. “Big word for you, Wilson.” 

“Shut up, Mercer.”

Eventually, the time came for everyone to head off to class, and for Luke to head behind the cash register. After getting some last minute tips from Flynn, Luke bid the others goodbye and watched as they left the coffee shop. Tying his apron around his waist, he headed behind the counter and knocked on the door to Mr. Rosa’s office. 

“Mr. Rosa? It’s Luke. I’m here for my shift.”

Mr. Rosa was nice enough; a heavyset man with a thick mustache and a loud, booming laugh. He taught Luke the basics-- how to brew the coffee, how to clean the machines, and how to punch customers’ orders into the register. He showed Luke the folder underneath the register that held most of the drink recipes. Luke was right about the job being pretty self-explanatory. He caught onto everything with relative ease, and after an hour or so of training, Mr. Rosa disappeared back into the office. “Call me if you need any help,” he said. 

The day passed pretty easily. Flynn was right about the late morning being slow, and the early afternoon picking up pace. He kept up pretty well with the orders and even got a few dollars placed in the tip jar. 

When the boys walked through the door at half past twelve, Luke was just getting ready to take his lunch break. Mr. Rosa had come out from the office to cover the register, and Luke hung up his apron and met the guys at their usual corner table. 

“Hey, barista,” Bobby greeted jokingly. “How’s your first day going?” 

“It’s actually fine,” Luke said. “Didn’t even spill anything on my apron.”

Bobby laughed. “It’s still only lunch.”

Luke ran back behind the counter to grab some stuff for them to eat. As an employee, he got a discount on drinks, and the food in the display case. He grabbed a couple of things for him and the guys to share, handed Mr. Rosa some cash, and brought everything over to the table. Then he went back and made four cups of coffee. 

Finally, he sat down next to Bobby and the boys ate. They talked about their classes, but Luke noticed the boys exchanging nervous looks throughout the conversation. He tried to brush them off, not meeting their eyes, and hoped that whatever it was they wanted to say to him, they’d take the hint and wait until later. 

Luke knew he had to have a talk with them tonight. He would leave work, hang out with Julie, and return home to an ambush. He was expecting it. He definitely didn’t want to talk about his problems any sooner. 

“Listen…” Alex began. Luke blinked. “I know we said we’d talk tonight, and we will. But…”

“We just wanna know how you’re doing,” Reggie finished. “We know you didn’t get much sleep.” 

Luke sighed. “I didn’t. But, I’m okay.” 

“Julie and I are gonna hang out after work tonight,” he continued. “After that, you can ask me... whatever it is you’ve been dying to ask me.” 

“That’s good that you have plans with Julie,” Bobby said. “Julie is awesome.” 

“She really is,” Reggie smiled fondly. 

Then the conversation drifted again, toward Julie. Luke picked up quite a few things that he hadn’t known about her. Her favorite color was purple. She had been best friends with Flynn since first grade, and had met the boys in high school. Her mom had had pancreatic cancer and lost the battle six months ago. She had a dad named Ray and a little brother named Carlos. She lived with her family in a house in the suburbs, about twenty minutes from campus. 

Luke committed each new thing he learned about Julie to memory. He was beginning to piece the girl together, to understand why performing music had seemed so abhorrent to her. 

Julie’s mother had been a musician. She and Julie used to make music together. 

“After Rose died, Julie… she refused to even look at a piano for weeks,” Alex explained. “We didn’t wanna push her, but we know how much she loves music. It’s who she is. And she didn’t even want to step foot into her garage because of all the memories.” He paused. “That’s where she and her mom would play together. They had a piano set up in the garage. Rose called it her ‘studio.’” 

“It was bad, for a while,” Reggie recalled quietly. “She ripped up and threw away all the books she had lyrics in... she didn’t even wanna hear music playing on the radio.” He frowned at the memories. “If we were in the car together, we had to turn it off.” 

“She applied to Covington to be a music major,” Bobby said. “In the honors program. But after everything happened with her mom last spring, she switched to economics.”

“We’ve been trying to encourage her to start music again,” Alex said. “We’ve asked her to play with Sunset Curve-- not gigs, or anything. Just to mess around in the studio. But she won’t do it.” 

“Maybe she just needs some more time?” Luke suggested. “It’s not easy, getting into the right headspace for music after you lose someone. I’ve definitely been--” He cut himself off. “I know how Julie feels.” 

Alex, Bobby, and Reggie exchanged glances. Luke’s implication that he’d lost someone had not gone unnoticed. Before any of them could ask, though, Luke stood up. “I think my lunch break’s almost over. I should get back to work.” 

Thankfully, the boys accepted that and stood up, too. “Yeah, we should get to class,” Bobby said. “We’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah,” Luke replied.

The boys went their separate ways.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to say a huge thank you to @sunset_phantom. Mads, your feedback & advice has been so helpful as I fumble my way through my fanfiction writing journey lol. If any of you haven't already, go check out her amazing stories! I have a tumblr if you want to message me there: it's @/shellydominique. I don't post much but I'd love to talk about anything JATP, writing, or life related :) Also, I made a playlist for this fic! It can be found [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4wG87Ye6M5fXXHAoKw5Ete)


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